


Snap

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2018 [12]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Gen, Major Character Injury, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-19 17:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15515160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Well, Gavin’s had worse Christmases.





	Snap

Gavin awoke in a cloud of pain, hard concrete beneath his back and head, and knew he was fucked.  
  
“ _Oh,_ oh fuck,” He croaked, trying to lift his head.  
  
“Hold still.”  
  
Oh, great. That was great. Apparently physical pain wasn’t enough, the universe had to heap some psychological pain on him too. RK900 was kneeling beside him, LED yellow, staring down at him with a furrowed brow. Gavin grunted, tried to brace himself against the ground so that he could try to sit up, but the pain was too bad. “God _damn_ it, mother _fucker!_ ”  
  
“Hold _still,_ ” RK900 repeated sharply. “If your spine is damaged you could make it worse.”  
  
“Fuck you!” But Gavin didn’t move.  
  
He looked around, trying to remember how he’d gotten there. His head hurt, and trying to focus on anything felt like trying to walk in a straight line when drunk. He’d woken up that morning, he remembered that, and then he’d gone to work and been met with RK900’s smug fucking mug, as usual… After that, it got fuzzy. He could recall being in a car with RK900 driving, grunting responses to the android’s questions, could remember how goddamn _cold_ it was outside…  
  
And nothing.  
  
Gavin had nothing, and that sent a little spark of fear through him.  
  
“The fuck happened?”  
  
RK900 made eye-contact with him again; before, he’d just been staring all weird-like at Gavin’s body, like the freak he was. “You fell off the roof.”  
  
“Roof ‘a what?”  
  
“The building.”  
  
“What _building_ , asshole?” RK900 looked at Gavin- at _Gavin!_ \- like he was a fucking moron, and pointed to the building over his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly the Stratford, but Gavin comprehended its size and felt dizzy with shock. How the fuck had he managed to fall off of that thing and _not_ die?  
  
“I think you managed to catch the edge of the fire-escape on the way down,” RK900 suggested, as though reading his mind. “It slowed you down somewhat, and the impact wasn’t as hard as it could have been. Your injuries are serious, but not fatal.”  
  
“How would you know? You a cop-bot or a doc-bot?”  
  
“I scanned you and was able to evaluate your injuries. You have a broken leg, three broken ribs, and a broken arm that needs to be set.”  
  
Right. Gavin forgot that bots could do that. “I take it you called 911?”  
  
“Of course. By my calculations it should take them fifteen minutes to arrive.”  
__  
That long? Oh, right, it was Christmas, and the hospitals were still recovering from the overhaul in staff that had happened with the evacuation- they’d lost a good chunk of android staff in the recall centers, and apparently some of the ones that were left weren’t so interested in going back to work with people that had so willingly handed them over for destruction. Never mind the fact that there were daily demonstrations outside the hospitals that _had_ started employing androids again, suggesting that the administrators were endangering human lives by allowing deviants around vulnerable patients.  
  
Gavin didn’t like androids, sure, but personally he thought they were reaching a bit.  
  
He made a pained sound as RK900 took his injured arm into hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
“Setting your arm. Brace yourself.”  
  
“Whoa, no, don’t even _think-_ ”  
  
Pain exploded in Gavin’s arm, and he let out a strangled howl, kicking out with his broken leg and the pain became _fucking horrible_ , and for a few minutes everything went dark and blurry. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t _breathe._  
  
It took almost ten minutes before he could pull himself together just enough to be able to string some words together. “Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck? What the _fuck?_ Why the fuck did you, why would you-?”  
  
“It was within my ability to set your arm, and so I did,” RK900 responded just so very-fucking- _calmly_ , “The odds of you having permanent damage to it now are far lower, and it should be easier for the doctors to-”  
  
“You _cocksucker!_ I almost fuckin’ hyperventilated! Do you have any fucking idea just how bad that _hurt?!_ ” Gavin’s voice came out scratchy and cracked, probably because he’d screamed himself fucking hoarse from the pain of having his broken arm fucked with.  
  
Why was it that of all the bots he had to get fuckin’ paired up with, it had to be this one? Connor was a pain in the ass, sure, but at least he did what he was told for the most part, and he was just so goddamn eager to please. The sycophantic behavior had been irritating as fuck, but at least he’d have been dealing with someone who was reasonably compliant. RK900, on the other hand, hadn’t exactly made it a secret that his Cyberlife programming took precedence over any orders that Gavin gave him; after all, he didn’t officially have an owner because it was illegal to own an android now, so he had nothing to fall back on but his programming.  
  
So basically he was Cyberlife’s bitch, and Gavin hated him.  
  
“I did what was required and safest to bring about the most optimal circumstances for you. You’ll thank me when you can still use your arm.”  
  
God, what a _prick._  
  
Apparently Cyberlife had taken Connor’s framework and decided ‘hey, so the last one was too nice, let’s make this one a real dick, because that’ll end so great for whatever jackass ends up having to work with him’. The next time Gavin met someone from Cyberlife, he was going to knock their damn teeth in.  
  
“Why the fuck were we on a roof, anyway?”  
  
“We were dealing with a drunk human pretending to be Santa Claus.”  
  
Oh, wait, yup, there it was- a tingle of a memory that Gavin could go on, could remember laughing his ass off at the moron on the roof as he’d carried a bag full of coal in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other, stumbling around and telling them they’d get coal in their stockings if they didn’t ‘fuck off and let Santa do his goddamn job’. It had been real funny right up until he’d swung that bag, which _was_ full of actual, heavy coal, at Gavin and knocked him…  
  
Ah. There it was.  
  
“Did that fucker knock me off the roof?”  
  
“He did.”  
  
“Did you get him?”  
  
“I was too busy attending to you.”  
  
Gavin gave him an odd look. “Why the hell did you do that?”  
  
“I prioritized the more pressing course of action. The suspect is drunk and disorderly but otherwise harmless. He’s more a danger to himself than anyone else. You, on the other hand, were seriously injured and required immediate attention, so I chose to let the suspect go.”  
  
That would have been downright _heartwarming_ if the fucker hadn’t so blatantly advertised that he’d done it because it was pragmatic, rather than because he actually gave a shit about whether or not Gavin lived or died. “So you’re saying that if the suspect had been dangerous, you would have left me to rot.”  
  
“No, but I would have left you behind.”  
  
“ _God_ , you’re such an asshole.”  
  
Sirens could be heard in the distance now, and Gavin was relieved. They’d better get there quickly, before he had to suffer from any more of RK900’s attempts at playing doctor. Thankfully, the android stood up and stepped away from him, moving to the edge of the parking lot so that he could signal the ambulance.  
  
“Jesus,” One of the EMTs, a guy named Wheeler, remarked, “What happened to you, Reed? Someone finally knock your shit in?”  
  
“Fuuuck yooou,” Gavin drawled, flipping him off with his good hand.  
  
RK900 regarded him calmly as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. “Now that you’re secured, I will attempt to hunt down the suspect and bring him back to the station for formal charges.”  
  
“You do that.”  
  
“I will inform Captain Fowler of your situation.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“And as I assume you’ll be in the hospital for at least a few days, I will finish the mission report.”  
  
“You’re a _peach_.”  
  
“Goodnight, Detective.”  
  
The doors shut, and within a few seconds, the ambulance was rolling away.  
  
Wheeler was snickering as he put the IV in. “Hoooo, you’ve got a weird one, Reed. He do this to you?’  
  
“No, some jackass dressed up like Santa Claus did.”  
  
Wheeler laughed like that was the funniest goddamn thing he’d ever heard of.  
  
Gavin tried to relax as they pumped him full of pain-killers, the pain in his leg and ribs and especially the goddamn _arm_ that RK900 had reset like an asshole without even damn well asking him if it was alright.  
__  
Prick, he thought as his mind went foggy again.  
  
Still, he’d had worse Christmases.  
   
-End


End file.
